As promised in the Velvety Lemon Tart post, this week I’m also sharing the recipe for Strawberry Tartlets. The recipe for the crust is the same as the one for the lemon tart —no wonder, you’ll say, considering that I used the leftover dough from the lemon tart! However, because the strawberry tartlets will be smaller, the time in (more…)
I grew up surrounded by orange trees. Almost literally! The name of the place was El Taroncheral, and the property, an expansive orange tree grove that included a large stucco dwelling and a circular basin where rain and well water for irrigation were collected. Eventually, three houses where built: I grew up in one of the houses.
Taroncheral, by the way, (more…)
Two events mark the beginning of the Christmas season at our house. The first is the set up of the Nativity Scene. In true Spanish tradition, our Nativity Scene includes the main characters, namely Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus in the manger, and the Three Kings making their way to Bethlehem. But our Nativity Scene also (more…)
I didn’t think I would be including the recipe for quince paste this early in the life of Mama Ía blog. Don’t get me wrong, I love quince paste, but I understand it might not be a dish my American friends would eat often, as it is the case in Spain. Quince paste is very popular in Spain, and it’s usually eaten with cured manchego cheese, or with fresh (more…)
I find it interesting to see how this blog thing is working out. Take this week, for instance. I had a few ideas in my head as to what to make for this week’s post. I could choose from a number of recipes that included Fall vegetables —the beautiful pumpkins, or butternut squash, sweet potatoes, delicata or acorn squash. I hadn’t made up my mind yet, waiting to see what peaked my interest. (more…)
Making paella always wakes up my senses, every one of them. I’m sure it is because of all the sentiments it evokes, and the memories attached to the dish. Growing up in Spain, we used to have paella mostly on Sundays, when the after-meal time could linger for hours and well into the early evening. In the summer, the after-meal time (more…)
There once was a field planted with orange trees, rows upon rows of orange trees, that soaked up the sun most every day of the year. One large round basin kept a watchful eye, collecting both well and rain water, and letting it go, flooding the fields where the orange trees lived. The trees grew blossoms that perfumed the air, that turned into oranges that hung from the trees, clusters of them, weighing the branches, until harvest, around Christmas time.
Growing up in Spain —where it was years before I ever saw snow for the first time—, makes me ever excited to see the first winter snowflakes fall in Fort Wayne. For my children, the sight means the anticipation of a school cancellation the next day. For me, it’s a reminder that the time of year has come to live more indoors than out, that the homey cooking season has arrived, the time of stews. Of churros for breakfast on Sunday mornings. (more…)
